Vesta Blishwick and the Philosopher's Stone
by writersoftheuniverse
Summary: Vesta Blishwick has the perfect life. A part of a Pure-blood family with a history filled with wealth, who would think otherwise? However, when she finally arrives at Hogwarts, she realizes that life isn't always at perfect as it seems. With prejudices Vesta hadn't even known about before now, she knows this is going to be a very strange, yet exciting, year.
1. Diagon Alley

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Those were the sounds Vesta Blishwick woke up to. Blue eyes darted around the room, checking for the source of the noise. She groaned, "Cassie?" The eagle owl sitting on her windowsill kept tapping. She sighed, "Cassiopeia?"

The tapping stopped. Vesta groggily got out of bed and opened the window. Cassiopeia flew into the room.

"Okay, I've got your dead mice in your cage. If you need anything, be patient." After crossing off the date, grinning when she saw the date. _Only a week till my birthday! _She walked out of the room. After a couple minutes of actually trying to get from her room all the way across the manor, she walked into the dining was completely empty. When she walked in, she was immediately greeted by her house elf, Dolly.

"Greetings, Miss," Dolly greeted.

Vesta smiled, "Greetings, Dolly."

"And what does young Mistress Blishwick want for breakfast?"

Vesta sighed, she had tried to get the house elf to call her Vesta for years, but Mistress always stuck. "I think I'm in the mood for bacon."

"Right away Mistress!" Dolly rushed off to the kitchens. Vesta laughed and walked over to the dining table. That was where she saw it. The emerald green writing, the crest. it was finally here. Smiling, she opened it.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Ms. Blishwick,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

She couldn't help but scream. "MOTHER! FATHER!" she screamed, running down the hall way to her parents' room. "MOTHER! FATHER! WAKE UP!"

Rolinda Blishwick woke up, pushing a piece of her long blonde hair of her face. "Sweetheart, it is if five in the morning, you can't go screaming around the manor, you'll wake Adonis up." Adonis was her seven year old little brother who was obsessed with Zonko's products. Vesta kept the mentality that it was okay when she used Zonko's products on Adonis, just not the other way around. "I'm surprised you didn't wake your father up." She pointed to Michael Blishwick, who was still fast asleep. "So, Vesta, what was so important that you woke up the whole manor for?"

Vesta bounced up and down, "It came!" She showed her mother the letter.

Her mother smiled, "I am so proud of you." She tapped Vesta's father on the shoulder, "Michael," she shook him, "Michael!"

Her father groggily mumbled, "What?"

Vesta's mother rolled her eyes, "You're daughter just got her Hogwarts letter."

Her father mumbled, "Congratulations," before falling asleep.

Rolinda chuckled, "Okay, just give us a chance to wake up. We'll be down in a couple minutes."

Vesta nodded and rushed back to the dining room, where a plate of bacon was waiting for her. She sat down and started eating. Once she finished and her parents still weren't down, she read the second page of her Hogwarts letter.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_UNIFORM _

_First-year students will require: _

_ sets of plain work robes (black) _

_ plain pointed hat (black) for day wear _

_ pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) _

_ winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) _

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags._

_COURSE BOOKS_

_ All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand _

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) _

_1 set glass or crystal phials _

_1 telescope _

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

She frowned a bit at that last part. It was unfair first years couldn't bring their own broomsticks. They had to use those rubbish school brooms her father told her about. Almost immediately after she finished mentally complaining, her little brother ran in.

"I'm hungry!" Adonis complained.

Vesta rolled her eyes, "Good morning to you. Thanks for congratulating me on getting accepted."

"Well, I knew you were gonna be accepted cause of that time you shrunk all my clothes!" Adonis complained, "Besides, I'm hungry!"

"Well, call for Mitzy."

"But I just saw Dolly leave the room! Can I please use her?" Adonis begged.

"No, she's my house elf," Vesta replied.

"Meanie." Adonis stuck his tongue out.

* * *

After finishing breakfast, Vesta ran to her room to get dressed. She brushed her medium-length red hair and put it into a ponytail. She squeezed her cheeks, scowling at their chubbiness. Her cousin would never leave her alone about it.

Once put on a nice set of robes, she ran back to the dining room, where her mother and father had finished eating.

"I'm ready! Can we go now, please, please, please?" She begged

"Vesta, don't be immature. Stop repeating yourself, and let your mother and I get ready," Michael commanded.

Vesta looked dow. "Yes, sir. Sorry, Father."

* * *

After what seemed like an eternity, the entire Blishwick family gathered by the fireplace.

"We're going to have to buy some more floo powder," Rolinda told her husband. He just nodded in response.

"Can I go first?" Adonis asked.

"No, I get to go first. I'm the reason we're going!" Vesta argued.

They continued to argue, saying the worst things an eleven and a seven-year-old could think of (which was not much), until their mother intervened.

"ADONIS! VESTA!" Both siblings stopped to look at her, "Vesta is going first. Adonis, when you get your Hogwarts letter, you can go first. Okay?"

"Okay," The siblings both repeated.

"Now, Vesta, you can go first."

Vesta stepped into the fireplace, ducking her head. She took a handful of floo powder and said, "Diagon Alley!"

She disappeared into a mass of green flames.

* * *

When Vesta's family arrived at Diagon Alley, her eyes immediately darted to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

_The Nimbus 2000_

Before her parents could stop her, she rushed over to the shop window, her face touching the glass. She turned to her mother and father. "Please, father, buy me it! I won't even ask for money for candy!"

Her father sighed. "Vesta, first years are not allowed their own broomsticks. Did you even bother to read through the letter?"

"I did, but I can leave it at home for the year!"

Michael rolled his eyes. "And when the Nimbus 2001 comes out you'll be begging me for that. Now, come along, we need to head over to Gringotts."

Vesta just scowled, not being able to think of a comeback, and went with her parents to Gringotts. She hated it there. The goblins always creeped her out.

Once they finally got their money, Michael stated they would first stop at Ollivanders. Vesta grinned and grabbed her parents' hands and ran to Ollivanders, Rolinda holding on tightly to Adonis. Michael scowled as they kept running into people, but not struggling at Vesta's energetic sprint towards the famous wand shop.

When they finally arrived at _Ollivanders, _Vesta spoke, "Mother, Father, can I go by myself?"

At her mother's nod, she rushed into the wand shop, which was empty, except for the old man that ran the shop, Ollivander.

"Hello, sir." Vesta walked up to the counter, nearly towering over it.

Ollivander looked at her with familiarity in his voice. "Ah, Vesta Blishwick, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes, sir."

Ollivander nodded. "I remember your father. Rowan with dragon heartstring, great for jinxes." He seemed to be talking more to himself than to Vesta. "And your mother, mahogany with unicorn hair. I knew it wouldn't be long until I saw you." Ollivander pulled out a tape measure with silver markings. "Now, which is your wand arm?"

"Left, sir," Vesta replied.

He instructed her to hold out her arm as the tape measure began to measure her. Height, waist, arm length, everything. While the tape measure measured her, Ollivander began looking through the shelves in the back. After the tape measure was finished, he took a wand out of a box.

"Ivy with phoenix feather." He handed it to her and she waved it, frowning when nothing happened. Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand and gave her another. "Ebony with unicorn hair." She waved it again, only for nothing to happen and it to be snatched out of her hand again.

After what seemed like forever, with wands piling and piling on top of the chair, Ollivander handed her another wand. "Hazel with dragon heartstring." As soon as she put it into her hand, she felt warmth flow throughout her body and wave the wand, a stack of books exploding. "Excellent!" Ollivander exclaimed. "Hazel with dragon heartstring, extremely loyal, and excellent for curses."

After paying seven galleons for the wand, she walked outside, where her mother was already holding her books in one hand, and Adonis in the other. Her father was holding her cauldron and other equipment.

"Now," Rolinda spoke, "time to get fitted for your robes." She smiled warmly at her daughter.

* * *

They went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, as they always did when they wanted something fitted for them. Madam Malkin directed her to stand next to another girl who was getting fitted. She had bushy brown hair and brown eyes. She was in Muggle clothes, which Vesta found strange. She decided to chat with her.

"Hello there, I'm Vesta Blishwick." She introduced herself.

The girl seemed happy to talk, because she talked in what seemed to be one breath. "Hello! I'm Hermione Granger! It's a pleasure to meet you!" Hermione grinned. "This is so overwhelming, at least it is for me, because my family isn't magical, and it was such a delight when I found out. I bought a couple extra books for background reading, do you think it'll be enough?"

Vesta blinked. A Mudblood? She's never met one before. The Mudblood didn't seem to be dirty in any way. She seemed to be normal, besides not knowing about magic. That explains the clothes, at least. She have to ask her cousin, Maxinimus Talbot, about why he called them dirty. Her parents never used those terms. Well, not in front of her, at least.

"I'm not sure, I think it's more than enough. I'm Vesta Blishwick. So, your family is full of Muggles?"

"Yeah! They're dentists," Hermione replied. She didn't seem that bad.

Vesta frowned. "Den-tists?"

Hermione looked shocked. "You don't know what dentists are?" At the puzzled look on Vesta's face, she explained what a dentist was. Vesta was slightly horrified, and slightly impressed at the trust Muggles put into each other.

"I suppose you don't know what houses are?" Vesta asked.

"I looked at a bit, you know, the essentials. I think I would like to be in Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw sounds nice too."

"I'm probably getting into Slytherin. My entire family is in it," she told her.

"Well, you're placed into your house based on a whole load of factors, not just your family."

Vesta nodded. "I guess your right."

After Madam Malkin finished fitting the both of them, they waved to each other and left to join their families. Vesta decided to not mention to her family that she just met a Mudblood, she didn't want to trigger any sort of bad reaction.


	2. The Journey to Hogwarts

"Mother, why are Muggle-borns called Mudbloods?"

After she said those words at the dinner table, you could've heard a pin drop. Rolinda seemed like she would've dropped her glass.

"Vesta! You are not allowed to use that kind of language at the table!"

Vesta looked down and played with her food. "Maxinimus always says it. Why doesn't he like them?"

Rolinda sighed. "You're lucky your brother and father aren't here. Well, in the old days, back when I was young, and at the height of the Dark Lord's power, Muggles and Muggle-borns were looked down upon, 'mud' because it was believed their blood is dirty, so us Pure-bloods looked down on them. Obviously, very few people believe that nowadays. In fact, there's rumors that a Muggle Protection Act might be enacted next year. See? Muggle-borns are perfectly accepted into our society," Rolinda said. Rolinda smiled one her her smiles that essentially said, 'Stop asking questions.' Vesta felt like she wasn't being entirely truthful, but it wasn't her place to question her mother.

Vesta nodded. "Yes, mother." After she finished her food, she asked her mother if she could read her books. After her mother said yes, she ran through the hallway, then up two flights of stairs, then down another hallway, to her room.

She opened her copy of _A History of Magic _to a chapter called _Wizard-Muggle Relations _and began reading.

_"Upon the signature of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1689,  
__wizards went into hiding for good. It was natural, perhaps, that  
they formed their own small communities within a community.  
Many small villages and hamlets attracted several magical families,  
who banded together for mutual support and protection. The  
villages of Tinworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, and  
Ottery St. Catchpole on the south coast of England were notable  
homes to knots of Wizarding families who lived alongside tolerant  
and sometimes Confunded Muggles. Most celebrated of these  
half-magical dwelling places is, perhaps, Godric's Hollow, the West  
Country village where the great wizard Godric Gryffindor was born,  
and where Bowman Wright, Wizarding smith, forged the first Golden  
Snitch. The graveyard is full of the names of ancient magical families,  
and this accounts, no doubt, for the stories of hauntings that have  
dogged the little church beside it for many centuries."_

She continued reading until Cassiopeia tapped on her window. Vesta groaned slightly and got up to her window and unlocked it. Cassiopeia flew in and dropped a dead mouse on her bed.

Vesta made a face of disgust. "Lovely." She quickly threw all of her things off of the bed and got up from it. "Dolly!" She yelled to said house-elf. Dolly appeared in her room with a _crack_.

"What is it, Mistress?" Dolly asked.

"I need clean sheets, please." Her cousin often complained that she didn't need to be polite to house-elves, but she couldn't help it. Vesta tried to be polite to everything that could understand her.

Dolly nodded and took the sheet from the bed, and returned a few minutes later with a new one. "Thank you, Dolly." Vesta smiled at the house-elf. Dolly snapped her fingers and the sheets were set correctly on the bed.

"Tis all, Mistress?" Dolly asked.

"Yes, Dolly." Dolly disappeared with a crack. Vesta continued reading the intriguing book until she couldn't help but fall asleep.

* * *

When Vesta's birthday finally came around, her family members (and some of her father's friends from work, of course) pretended to be excited that she got into Hogwarts. The problem with her birthday was, besides the gifts, they were rather boring. As a Pure-blood, she wasn't aloud to associate with many other children. The only one her age there was Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's, a good friend of her father's, son. It's not that she didn't like Draco, it was just that they didn't have the same interests. But, since anyone even close to her age there usually would rather talk to people their ages rather than an 11-year-old, she usually talked with Draco. This party was one of the few times Vesta was fully interested in a conversation between them, due to them both getting their Hogwarts letters.

However, the party wasn't perfect. Ever since she had become a bit more aware of the tensions between Muggle-borns and Pure-bloods, Vesta had noticed how her father and his friends, especially Mr. Malfoy, talked about how Mud-bloods shouldn't be welcome into the magical society. Even Draco seemed to agree with them.

But, overall, the party was nice. She got too many gifts to count, and she wasn't bored for once.

After that, the months rolling up to Hogwarts went fast. Before she knew it, her parents dressed her in her best robes and she was at Platform 9 3/4.

Rolinda squeezed Vesta tightly, kissing her forehead. "Goodbye, darling! Your father and I will miss you so much!" A tiny little voice in her head spoke, _If he missed me so much, why didn't he come to say goodbye?_

Adonis hugged Vesta and waved goodbye as Vesta went on the train. She walked down the train, looking for an empty compartment. She finally arrived at a compartment with a scrawny boy with black hair, taped glasses, and emerald green other boy sitting there had red hair, freckles, and looked extremely lanky.

"Excuse me, is it okay if I sit here? I don't mean to be rude, but everywhere else is full." She peeked her head into the compartment. Both boys looked at each other and nodded. Vesta grinned. "Thank you!"

She sat down next to the ginger. "It's nice to meet you both! I'm Vesta, Vesta Blishwick." She heard the ginger snicker. "Oh, my name's funny? What's yours, then?"

"Ron Weasley." Vesta frowned. _Weasley? Her father didn't talk that fondly of them. _"Hold on a second," Weasley interrupted her thoughts, "Blishwick? Is Michael Blishwick your dad?"

Vesta nodded. "Yeah. Why, is that bad?" Vesta asked, confused.

Weasley shrugged. "No reason."

Vesta decided to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach and turned to the black haired boy. "So, what's your name?"

"Harry, Harry Potter," the boy spoke, looking like he was preparing for something he had heard a thousand times before.

"Harry? You mean, the Harry Potter? As in, the one who defeated the Dark Lord?" Vesta couldn't help but explode with energy. She had read about him! How no one knows how he defeated the Dark Lord, how all that had happened was a scar on the top of his forehead, and how he was supposed to be coming to Hogwarts this year!

"Yeah, that's me," Harry sighed.

Vesta frowned. "Oh, you must have to deal with that a lot." She looked down, laughing nervously, "Hehe... Sorry."

Harry shrugged. "It's fine. As you said, I deal with it a lot, so I'm used to it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I asked him that not long before you came into the compartment anyway," Weasley said. He didn't seem like that bad of a guy, despite how much her father rants about them.

Vesta smiled. "It does, thank you."

"Hold on a second, Ron knew your last name, is your whole family magical?" Harry asked.

Vesta grinned. "Yep! I don't know a single non-magical relative. My mother is magical, and so is my father, and my little brother, Adonis, is most likely magical as well!"

"So you and Ron must know loads of magic already."

"No, not really. I mean, I know a few charms that my mother has used from time-to-time, but just because I know the words, it doesn't mean I can actually do magic well. I might be terrible, for all I know!" Vesta rambled, keeping the permanent smile on her face.

"She's right, Harry. Hold on, I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron, "What are they like?"

"Horrible -well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers, or at least one would be nice," Harry responded.

"Five," said Ron. He seemed to look... upset. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat." Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink.

Vesta frowned. She had heard that the Weasley's weren't one of the wealthiest families in the world, it didn't make it fair. Ron seemed nice. Albeit, annoying and lacking of a verbal filter at a first glance, he seemed like the kind of person you had to get to know in order to understand what they're actually like.

Harry seemed to notice Ron being upset at the fact that the Weasley's were poor, so he told them both all about having to wear his cousin's, Dudley's, old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort."

Both Ron and Vesta gasped.

"You said the Dark Lord's name!"

And at the same time Ron said, "You said You-Know-Who's name!"

"You must be really brave -"

"I'd thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, looking extremely gloomy, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough," Ron comforted Harry.

"Yeah, and there are some Pure-bloods who are absolutely terrible at magic. You see, I have this cousin who -" Vesta continued rambling on, until around half past twelve. There was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Vesta had currently been talking about something completely unrelated to the original subject (Something about how one time her cousin had managed to blow up the living room even though his wand wasn't near him at the time). Both she and Harry leapt to their feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered something about sandwiches.

While Harry got some of everything, Vesta got her favorites. Fifteen chocolate frogs, two packages of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a package of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. She paid the woman ten Sickles and sat down with all of her candy. She and Ron stared at the large amount of candy Harry got.

"Hungry, are you?" Ron asked.

"Starving," Harry replied.

By the time they had sat back down, Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on -"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry.

Vesta put all of her sweets in between her and Ron. They began eating all of Vesta and Harry's sweets, with Vesta not caring whether or not she got something on her face.

"What are these?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"Oh, don't worry! It's just an enchantment. Tastes like normal chocolate. The real reason you want them is the cards," Vesta informed him.

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy," Ron said.

Vesta looked at Ron with wide eyes. "Ooh! I have Agrippa! I've got about ten, so you can have one! I'm missing Slytherin and Herpo the Foul."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. "So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry, after looked at the picture.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Ptolemy- thanks."

Vesta handed two chocolate frogs to Ron. "You can have some of mine! Besides, I heard from a couple of fifth years that the trolley lady comes back around anyway."

Harry turned the card back over and looked astonished. "He's gone!" he exclaimed.

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be

unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people

just stay put in photos."

"They do? That's so weird!" Vesta looked absolutely fascinated by Harry's three friends continued eating Chocolate Frogs, Vesta smiling in victory when she found the Salazar Slytherin card. Harry's collection seemed to grow as well. A little while later, Harry started to open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and mar- malade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once." Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh - see? Sprouts."

"Ooh, let me try!" Vesta closed her eyes and popped one into her mouth. She made a face like she had just put a lemon into her mouth and struggled to swallow. "I think I got worse... I got sweaty socks."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Vesta got chocolate, the aforementioned sweaty socks, peppermints, booger, salad, and salt.

* * *

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed "I've lost him! He keeps getting 83 away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..." He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway," he had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

It took a few seconds for Vesta to realize that that girl was the Mud- Muggle-born she met in the shop, Hermione!

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said, extremely bossily.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but Hermione wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down.

Ron looked taken aback. "Er - all right." He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

Vesta couldn't help but laugh, which earned a glare from Ron.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said Hermione. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you? I already know Vesta, since we've met." She said all this very fast. Ron gave her a look as if to say, 'Really?'

The three shared glances, thankful at the fact that the other two hadn't learned all of the

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"You already know me," Vesta supplied awkwardly.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry. "Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"Slytherin isn't all bad!" Vesta attempted to comfort him. "Merlin was in Slytherin, and there's always people who don't follow the family's tradition of houses." Ron stilled looked extremely down.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry, trying to take Ron's mind off houses. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Harry was wondering what a wizard did once he'd finished school.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault." Harry stared.

"Really? What happened to them?"

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it." After a pause, Ron asked. "What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Er - I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world -" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money, with Vesta cutting in to correct him. At one point Ron and Vesta were almost about to fight at one point about which Quidditch team was the best. They were just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time. Three boys entered, and Vesta recognized all of them. Draco Malfoy, and two boys that had sometimes been at parties her father hosted. She forgot their first names, but the last names were Crabbe and Goyle. Both Crabbe and Goyle looked more brawn than brain at a first glance, and from what Vesta remembered, she was right.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. What is with him and laughing at people's names?

Draco Malfoy looked at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you." Harry, Ron, and Vesta stood up, but with Vesta trying her best to not be noticed.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Draco sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Vesta, stepping up nervously.

Draco frowned, "What are you doing with a Weasley, Vesta? And defending him, no less?"

"He's my friend, so you better leave, now," she was gritting her teeth.

"But we don't feet like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron - Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell. Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep-" And so he had. "You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"And I knew Malfoy because his family visits mine during parties," Vesta looked down, embarrassed,

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?" Ron glared at her as she left.

"I'd better go, too," Vesta grabbed her robes and left to go change.

* * *

**Thank you to my first reviewer, Amanda! I'm glad you liked it!**


	3. The Sorting

After Vesta changed into her robes, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Vesta ran back to the compartment as fast as she could, pushing past students. She finally reached the compartment and met up with Ron and Harry.

"Miss me?" She asked, still breathing heavily from running.

"You wish," Ron joked.

She stuffed her sweets into her pockets. The three joined the crowd in the hallway. The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Vesta heard a gruff voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

A giant of a man with a big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, they followed the man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Vesta assumed there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a beautiful castle with many turrets and towers.

"Hogwarts," Vesta breathed.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Ron, and Vesta were followed into their boat by Hermione. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled the man as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.

Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

The man raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

* * *

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and she looked someone who would be terrifying to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have all of the Blishwick Manor's living rooms in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Vesta nervously brushed her red hair out of her face, and tried to flatten an annoying piece of hair that wouldn't stay flat.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Vesta was visibly shaking.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry whispered to Ron and Vesta.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

"Oh, I should've asked Father! It's my fault I didn't think of it. What if I fail? If it's something that hurts a lot, what if I die? I don't want to die! Oh, Merlin, I'm done for! But what if I don't die and still fail? Father will be so disappointed, he'll be the one to kill me! Or disown me! I'm not really sure which is worse. I'm too young to die!" Vesta panicked.

While in the middle of panicking - several people behind her screamed. "What the -?" Harry gasped beside her. So did the people around Vesta. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling like she was going to throw up, Vesta lined up behind Ron, with Harry in front of Ron, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Vesta couldn't have even imagined a place this beautiful. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Attempting to calm herself down, Vesta looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Vesta quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Her mother would've scoffed in disgust.

_A hat, that doesn't look like it can be painful_, Vesta mused. _But,_ she thought as panic began to set it, _magic can make things that are harmful look harmless._ For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffis are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on!_

_Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry and Vesta . "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Vesta sighed in relief. Yes, trying on a hat can't be that bad. You don't even have to do anything!

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Blishwick, Vesta."

Vesta felt like she her stomach was doing a thousand somersaults. She tok a deep breath and calmly walked up to the the four-legged stool. The last thing she saw before the hat covered her eyes was the entire school staring at her.

_"Hm, let's see..."_ A voice whispered into her ear, giving Vesta chills,_ "Loyal, yes. Hufflepuff would be a good fit. But, what's this I see? You think yourself a coward, but you seem to be willing to sacrifice anything for your new friends, even yourself. There's also a desire to prove yourself to your father..."_

_"Oh, I know exactly where you'll belong. You definitely belong in,"_

_"_GRYFFINDOR."

Vesta's stomach dropped when she noticed how everyone had stayed quiet, but she couldn't blame them. The Blishwicks had been in Slytherin for centuries. The first Blishwicks were handpicked by Slytherin himself! There was some weak clapping at the Gryffindor table, mostly pity clapping, but the only thing that stopped her from crying was a pair yelling and clapping from two twins. _Weasleys, probably. _Even though it was still most likely out of pity, it still made her feel better. She rushed to the table, attempting to hide her face behind her hair. She sat next to a pair of two twins.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the next Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; the twins beside her were catcalling. "Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Vesta clapped loudly. Hermione sat down on the other side of Vesta, giving her a warm smile.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, - "Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted after almost a minute. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, Vesta noticed Harry was getting the loudest cheer yet. One of the prefects, got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the twins, yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite of Vesta and Hermione. The ghost with the ruff was next to him. It patted his arm, making Harry visibly shiver.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Vesta at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Vesta clasped her hands together in a prayer-like position before the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Vesta clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said the prefect pompously across the table as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.

After Dumbledore finished speaking, the dishes in front of Vesta were now piled with food. Her family had always had big meals at parties, but she had never seen so many delicious delicacies at once: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Vesta piled a little bit of everything, even the humbugs, on her plate and began to eat.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you -?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've in troduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely upset, probably because he wasn't please with the topic of conversation. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Vesta felt like she was going to be sick. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Vesta looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding -

As Vesta helped herself to ice cream, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

Vesta began to talk to the Weasley twins on the the other side of her.

"I'd like to thank you, honestly, for making things significantly less awkward for me."

The twin closest to her grinned. "Well, anyone who's a Gryffindor is a friend of mine. If you're in Gryffindor, you can't be too bad." He took a bite of apple pie. "I'm Fred, that's George, by the way. Or, alternatively, Gred," he pointed to his twin, "and Forge," he pointed to himself.

Vesta laughed. "It's nice to meet you, Gred and Forge."

After talking for a while about which teachers were the ones you didn't want to piss off and which ones would have hilarious reactions the desserts disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you."

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Vesta nervously laughed, but noticed that, besides Harry and herself, few people did the same.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. It was definitely obvious that the teacher's smiles were no longer sincere.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"  
And the school bellowed:

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot_."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Vesta giggled as Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Vesta felt like she could've fallen asleep on the staircases. She wasn't surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, due to the fact that most of her dead family members had a portrait in the manor. Twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Vesta was wondering if she'd die of exhaustion before they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross- legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory. At the top of the staircase, they were obviously in one of the towers - they found their beds at last: four four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, all of the girls pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.


	4. Potions Class

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Which one?"

"In between the blood traitors."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Vesta noticed that whispers would follow Harry the moment she left her dormitory and joined him and Ron the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at Harry, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Vesta found it extremely annoying. They were trying to get to their classes, after all!

If Vesta had to name something she hated about Hogwarts, it definitely would've been Argus Filch. Vesta, Ron, and Harry managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Of course, the History of Magic teacher was a close second. During his class, she would struggle to keep her eyes open, despite the fact that the teacher was a ghost, Professor Binns. But that seemed to be the only thing interesting (if you could call it interesting) thing about the class.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Vesta had definitely been right in the sense that she could be intimidating. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they 107 weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a huge of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Vesta was glad that Harry was relieved when he found out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. Vesta insisted that there was so much to learn that even people like herself and Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry, Ron, and Vesta. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us, " Harry grumbled. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. About a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Vesta noticed that, along the usual sweets, she had gotten a letter. It was most likely a response to the letter she had sent the second day.

_Dear Vesta,_

_Even though I must confess that I am disappointed in your house, I am obligated to  
congratulate you for getting into Gryffindor. __As much as I detested the house and those  
in it in my school days, I cannot do that to __my own daughter, now can I? __If you do not  
do anything rash while in Gryffindor, I will not be upset with you. However, I am very  
disappointed that you almost got into a fight with Draco Malfoy. You should know better  
than to act brashly like that.  
_

_Also, as far as your concerns with the Weasley boy. Even though I may detest his  
father, I feel no reason to force you to no longer be friends with Weasley. As for  
meeting the Potter boy, that is interesting. I want you to continue being friends with him,  
no matter what. Do you understand?_

_Sincerely,  
Father_

Vesta frowned at the crypticness of the letter. She scribbled down on a spare piece of parchment.

_Father,_

_Yes, sir, I understand. I apologize for getting into a fight with Draco. I will do my best to prevent it from happening again._

_Vesta_

* * *

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name. "Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity." Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had y caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry, Ron, and Vesta exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced at Ron, both of them looked stumped; Hermione's hand had shot into the air. Vesta's hand nervously rose into the air, shaking slightly.

"I don't know, sit," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored Hermione's and Vesta's hands.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn't seem to have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. His eyes avoided Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. Vesta scowled at them, ignoring the promise she made her father.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Harry kept looking straight into those cold eyes. Vesta wanted to yell about how unfair he was being. Harry just got into the magical world! He couldn't have been expected to know everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi!

Snape was still ignoring both Hermione's and Vesta's quivering hands.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and Vesta do, though, why don't you try them?"

A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "And stop shaking," he ordered Vesta, which resulted in her attempting to hold back tears and putting her hand down. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like, even though Hermione and Vesta's had done their's perfect. It even looked exactly like Malfoy's! Snape was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." Vesta looked at Harry and Ron with sympathy, eyes still red from holding back tears.

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

* * *

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Vesta noticed Harry looked extremely gloomy. She felt sorry for him. Snape blamed him for things he couldn't control! If Malfoy had done the exact same things he had done, Snape would've praised him! "Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

"Can I come as well?" Vesta asked. Harry nodded.

* * *

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back." Vesta was beginning to regret asking to come.

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Vesta and started licking her ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked. Vesta laughed. Despite not having one, Vesta loved dogs. She loved animals in general, but dogs were a personal favorite.

"This is Ron and Vesta," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." He looked a Vesta, "Blishwick, right? Knew yer father. Quite a troublemaker that one was," Hagrid said. Vesta would've scoffed, had it not been impolite. Her father, a trouble maker? Please.

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but Harry, Ron, and Vesta pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

The three of them were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Vesta noticed that Hagrid didn't quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals." Harry wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet. Vesta looked over his shoulder and read:

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

_ Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July,  
widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. _

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken.  
The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. _

_"But we're not telling you what was in there,  
so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

Vesta remembered her parents talked about that, and Ron mentioning it on the train.

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake.


End file.
